


My Kind of Librarian

by pharmtechgirl71



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Ghosts, It's a multi, Multi, Witches, lots of pie, work it out for yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharmtechgirl71/pseuds/pharmtechgirl71
Summary: Sammy is away working on a case and Dean teams up with a temporary partner to investigate a possibly haunted library.





	My Kind of Librarian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bella_Monoxide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Monoxide/gifts).



My Kind of Librarian  
Part One

Kyra was on edge; the whole library was on edge. Ever since the head librarian had been found dead in the Historical Romance section, the building had been eerily empty of patrons. For the last week and a half, she had spent her days cataloging new books, reading the ones that were most recently turned in, and catching up on her favorite tv show on her phone. 

Today was like all the others; the only people in the library were a couple of homeless men who frequently came in to beat the heat, one college student doing research, and the other two librarians on shift. Kyra, who was now in charge, by default, had sent Aaron and Eric to fill the shelves with the new and returned books, hoping that was all they were doing. 

She relaxed behind the desk and opened the latest Charlaine Harris novel. Everything that needed to be done was getting done, and she was tired, so she was going to catch up on her reading. 

Kyra zoned out and had half the novel read when she was startled by someone clearing their throat. She looked up and saw two men in black suits staring back at her. "Hello, gentlemen. How may I help you?"

The men pulled badges from their jacket pockets and flashed them at the librarian. "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Special Agent Bach, this is my partner Special Agent Bolan; we're from the FBI. We were wondering if we could talk to you about Francine Munch."

Kyra looked at Agent Bach; he was a little on the short side with dirty blonde hair and a smarmy smile. His partner, Agent Bolan, was a little taller, also with short, dirty blonde hair. "I've already spoken to the police, three times. Why would the FBI be interested in her? She had a heart attack, didn't she?"

"The medical examiner is still trying to determine cause of death," Agent Bolan offered in his southern twang. "Right now, we'd like to look at the scene, just to make sure the local boys didn't miss anything."

"What could they have missed?" Kyra asked the agents. "If she died of natural causes, there shouldn't be anything to look at."

"Things are slow down at headquarters; we're in between cases and thought we'd take a look, help our brothers in blue, ya know," Agent Bach replied.

"Alright then, follow me." Kyra led them upstairs to the Historical Romance section. "I found her here, between these stacks."

"Did you notice anything unusual about the body?" The one with the twang asked.

"No, but she had a book in her hand," Kyra answered.

The two men looked at each other. "Do you remember which book?" Agent Bach asked.

"I don't remember the title, but I remember the cover; it had a pirate on it. I think I laid it on one of the desks; the other two librarians won't come up here anymore, so I'm sure it's still there," Kyra replied. 

"What are you thinking Dean?" Daryl asked once the woman was out of range.

"I don't know; could be a ghost. We'll take the book and you can read it, do the research."

Daryl shook his head vehemently. "I don't do research, squirrel," Daryl replied, knowing that Crowley's nickname would piss Dean off.

Kyra returned before Dean could offer a retort. "This is it; I don't know why she had it. She always hated this section because she said it ruined young women for real life relationships." Dean took the book from her and brushed her fingers as he did. They looked at each other for a quick moment, and Dean thought he saw something in her eyes.

"Thank you, ma'am," Daryl said. "Is it okay if we take it with us; Agent Bach would like to read it. For research purposes." 

Dean shot him a go to hell look, then turned back to Kyra. "Is there anything significant about the book?" he asked her. "Is it popular?"

"No," she responded and shook her head. "The author was a local woman; her books never sold well. I don't think they were very well written, but she had some fans; mostly people in town who knew her. Some people joke that Stephanie Meyer is a relative of hers, but that's not true. The author died a few years ago from cancer, I think."

"So, if library lady didn't like the genre, why would she be in here clutching it in her hand when she died?" Daryl mused. 

"I don't know," Kyra said. "She was a strange woman, typical old lady librarian with horned-rimmed glasses, fugly bun, and all the kids were scared of her. Wouldn't shock me if you said she held black masses in her basement."

The men raised their eyebrows to each other but didn't respond to her statement. "We won't keep you any longer, ma'am. We'll return the book in a couple days if that's alright. We don't have a library card or nothing." Daryl said with a small grin on his face.

"I think I can trust you with it," Kyra said. "Just bring it back in two weeks."

The men smiled at her. Daryl noticed how her steely blue eyes sparkled when she smiled back. He pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. "If you remember anything else unusual, give us a call." 

Kyra took the card and smiled at Agent Bolan sweetly. "So, are you saying that an old woman having a heart attack is suspicious? Do you think the steamy smut killed her?" she said laughing.

Dean and Daryl laughed along with her. "That would have to be some damn fine smut," Dean replied and winked at her slyly. "Is there a number where we can reach you if we have any more questions?"

"Sure," Kyra said and wrote her name and number inside Dean's tiny notebook.

"We'll let you get back to work," Daryl said and rushed his partner down the stairs and out the door.

"What the fuck was that Dean?" Daryl yelled as soon as the sunshine hit them.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he answered as the two men climbed inside Baby. "I may have questions later."

Daryl barked out a laugh. "Like what? Can I see what’s inside your pants?"

Dean looked at the other man incredulously. "How can you say that? I am all about the job, but you did see the way she was looking at me, right? Fucking me with her eyes."

"You're delusional. She was saying 'fuck you'. You may not have noticed, but she was flirting with me."

Dean released a hearty laugh, straight from his gut. "You're the one who's delusional, dude. It's the Winchester charm; only two people in the world have it, and you're sitting next to one of them."

"You are funny as fuck, you know that? You obviously ain't never witnessed the Dixon charm, but your gonna see it, and go blind from it."

Dean continued to laugh. "You'll see. You know we'll see her again and she's gonna be all over me. I'm gonna get rid of whatever it is going on here, and I'll be her hero."

"Did you not notice that she doesn't even know anything's going on? The only reason we're here is because your dad got a Djinn here years ago and you think it might be back. This ain't no Djinn. If we got anything, it's a witch."

"You sure about that, hoss?"

"Pretty damn," Daryl replied. "Just pull Baby in somewhere so we can get us something to eat. We need to get started on this thing so we'll know what we're headed into when we go back tonight."

"Alright, but you're paying and buying the beer."

**************************************************************************************************************************************

After lunch at a local diner, where Dean ended up ordering a double bacon cheeseburger to go along with an entire cherry pie, in addition to what he ate sitting in the booth, the hunters went back to their hotel room.

Daryl researched the author, local historical records, and the library building itself. Dean was stuck reading, "The Windswept Ocean", and occasionally regaled Daryl with its wonder by reading passages aloud. "Maybe you should take some notes, Dean; "Edgar's" shit seems to work wonders on "Cynthia".

"Shut up douche bag. I've never seen you with a woman; how do I know you're not gay?"

"You don't," Daryl responded and winked at Dean.

"God I miss Sammy," Dean said and sank further down into the bed he was laying on. "Have you found anything?"

"Yep, found a few interesting bits of information," Daryl said and turned in his chair to face his temporary hunting partner.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was enjoying your dramatic interpretation too much; didn't want to interrupt." 

"Fine asshole. What did you find out?"

"Well, the building was erected in 1924. The foundation is original, but certain areas have been remodeled and added since then. No reports of anything tragic happening on the grounds; no Indian grave sites, no murders. The author, Amelia Wooten, was born at her family's home in 1945. Nothing of any significance in her life; no great tragedies reported. She was first published in 1969, and again in 1971,1976, and 1982."

"None of her books sold outside of the state, even then mainly in town. She kept to herself, never went out in public much, and never married or had kids. I found some pictures of her, though."

Dean got up from the bed and stood behind Daryl looking at the computer screen. There was a series of photographs, beginning with one captioned '1955'. It showed the author as a little girl standing with another, unidentified girl in a playground. The next one was from 1963; it was a graduation photo of the author with the same girl.

The remaining pictures were like the first two; the author and this unnamed girl at various stations in their lives. "Who is she?" Dean asked quietly.

"I don't know, but I have an idea," Daryl replied and began typing furiously on his keyboard. Suddenly the screen showed a picture of an old woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a fugly bun. "I think it's the dead librarian lady." 

The picture they were looking at was from her obituary. "Look at her bracelet; can you zoom in on it?" 

Daryl zoomed in on the bracelet she was wearing. "It says, 'Love Is Beyond Eternity-AWFM'. That's Amelia Wooten and Francine Munch. Munch is the other girl in all those pictures. Do you think that means what I think it means?"

Dean huffed and sat back down on the bed. "If they were lovers, they kept it hidden well."

"Back then they had to. Wooten wasn't famous enough to come out and be accepted. Only famous, successful writers and artists were allowed to come out of the closet, and they became ex-patriots living in Paris. These two wouldn't have been able to do that."

"Okay, so what do we have here?" Dean asked out loud. "A witch who summoned her lover from beyond the grave, or a ghost who came to get hers?"

Daryl sighed. "I don't know, man. We’ll look for hex bags and shit; check the old lady's office. Check the stacks for residue or something. Hell, it could be both, but if the sole purpose was to be together again, shouldn't it be over? I mean, would there really be anything to investigate?"

"I don't know, hell this isn't what I expected it to be. Maybe this isn't a job after all."

"I think we should still check out the library tonight. We could find something, you never know."

Dean nodded his head but didn't say anything. Picking up his keys he opened the door. "I'm going on a liquor run."

"But I just bought beer," Daryl said.

"You buy shitty beer," Dean replied and closed the door behind him as he left.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

When six thirty rolled around, Dean and Daryl were watching a re-run of Baywatch, drinking whiskey, and waiting for the sun to set. The library had closed thirty minutes prior, and they were just killing time, waiting to leave. 

When Daryl's phone rang, it startled both of them. He didn't recognize the number and grabbed Dean's notebook; the numbers matched and he quickly answered. "Agent Bolan," he said.

"Hello, this is Kyra, the librarian. You told me to call you if anything unusual happened."

"Yes, ma'am. What can we do for you?"

"I don't know if this counts, but Aaron and Eric always check the building before we close up to make sure everyone is out. They didn't see anyone, anywhere, and said that everything was in place; no books laying out, all the chairs in place. When I went upstairs just a minute ago, there was a stack of books lying on the floor by where I found Ms. Munch. It may not be anything, but I thought I'd give you a call, just in case."

"I'm glad you did, Kyra. We're on our way." Daryl ended the call and grabbed his crossbow. "It's go time, brother."

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Daryl relayed Kyra's account of what happened on the way to the library. When they pulled up to the front door, Kyra came running out. "Thank God! I don't know if I'm going crazy or what, but now I'm hearing noises up there. Sounds like chairs are being moved around."

Dean popped the trunk and started going through the weapons inside, while Daryl took out his crossbow and quiver. Kyra stopped talking and stood still, her mouth hanging open.

"You're not FBI, are you?"

Daryl shouldered his bow and turned to face the woman. "No sweetheart, we're not. We gotta get in there, but I promise we'll explain everything when this is over." He and Dean rushed past her and into the building. They went straight up the stairs to find tables and chairs scattered all over the room, the lights flickering, and the stack of books on the floor where Kyra said they were.

The two men circled the room; this was a ghost, not a witch, but that was no guarantee the witch wasn't involved somehow. Dean looked down at the stack of books, all written by Amelia Wooten. "This is definitely a ghost; look at the books."

Daryl smirked. "You're right, Dean. No human being would stack books like this."

Dean looked at his partner and rolled his eyes. "Just get that damn magic bow ready. We don't know if she's pissed or just hanging loose."

Daryl loaded a rock salt-tipped bolt and cocked the bow, holding it at the ready. He and Dean continued to walk around until they felt a chill by the reservation desk. Like a hologram, she appeared behind the wooden structure. 

Daryl shot off a bolt but missed as she vaporized into nothing. Kyra, who had followed behind them without their knowledge, screamed as she saw the apparition appear in front of her. She was static and electrical, and surrounded Kyra with a power that almost knocked her out.

"Don't move, Kyra!" Dean yelled, getting the attention of Ms. Wooten. The ghost sped toward him like lightning, and he was able to fire one round, which caused it to disappear once again.

Kyra ran to them and Daryl wrapped one arm around her, still holding the bow with his other. He carefully pushed her behind him and followed Dean through the stacks. 

The books that had been laying on the floor were scattered now, and a dense, white light was coming from the aisle. As they rounded the corner, they saw her, peaceful and calm, with one of her own novels in her hand.

She turned her head to the trio and focused on Kyra. Her empty eyes bore into the young woman's and Kyra heard a voice in her head apologizing for the mess. Then, Amelia Wooten spoke to the librarian about love and sacrifice; about patience and reward. She told Kyra that Francine had called to her and she had come to take her home, where they could finally be together; then she thanked her for being kind to her lover because kindness was something neither of them had known much of.

"Holy shit," the woman whispered as Amelia vanished. The temperature in the room stabilized and the lights stopped flashing. Dean and Daryl looked at each other astonished; getting rid of a ghost had never been this easy for either of them. Turning to Kyra, they saw her face was flushed and her eyes wide.

"What the hell just happened?" Daryl asked no one in particular. Swinging his crossbow to his back, he hugged the stunned woman tight in his arms.

"She was talking to me," Kyra said quietly. "Munch called for her and she came; said they're together now the way they always wanted to be."

Daryl felt both awkward and serene with Kyra in his arms, but awkwardness won out as he let go of her and stepped back. "Where's Munch's office? I'm gonna check for hex bags." Kyra directed him down the stairs and to the rear of the main desk.

Now alone with Dean, Kyra felt it was time she got some answers. "So, what the fuck actually happened here?"

Dean sighed and turned to look at her. "We found out that Munch and Wooten were lovers. Thought Munch was a witch and summoned Wooten from the grave. I guess we were right."

Dean searched the upstairs area for hex bags and other paraphernalia, with Kyra hot on his heels, but found nothing. The sound of Daryl bounding up the stairs startled Kyra and she wrapped her arms around Dean.

"I didn't find any hex bags, but she had fucking spell books and all kind of other shit in the bottom drawer of her desk. I threw it all in a box; we need to burn that shit."

Daryl abruptly stopped talking when he noticed Kyra's arms around his partner. When she realized that it was Daryl and not some other dark force coming for them, Kyra stepped back, releasing Dean from her grasp, but held his gaze for a moment.

“We have to go,” Dean told her. “We gotta burn this shit and get back on the road.” 

Kyra looked over at Daryl then turned to walk away from the two men. “I still don’t know what happened. You’re going to leave and not even tell me who you really are or if I’m safe?”

The two hunters looked at each other. It was always wise to leave as soon as a job was finished; hanging around could lead to attachment and there was no room in their lives for that.

Daryl sighed loudly. “We owe her that, Dean; you know we do. Let’s burn this shit and go grab some food. We can explain ourselves then.”

Dean nodded his head, knowing Daryl was right. “This is gonna call for an extra slice of pie.”


End file.
